Abyss
by mercva
Summary: Xander's roadtrip goes four dimensional, and un-living.
1. Chapter 0

Summary: Xander's roadtrip goes four dimensional, and un-living. 

Crossover: Hellsing 

Disclaimer: If you think I own this, I have a bridge to sell you. 

Feedback: Why not? 

Pre-Fic Comments: 

In this fic, Xander never got laid before he went trippin'. Make of this what you will. That condition is part of what makes the Hellsing vamps vamp instead of ghoul. 

Blame a plotbunny on this. If anyone wants to continue this, they're more than welcome to email me and ask. 

The title comes from a couple of quotes -- "if you stare too long into the Abyss, the Abyss stares back," and "let those who hunt monsters beware lest they become monsters." I'm sure I'm misquoting somehow. 

* * * 

Having a conscience sucked, Xander decided. Why couldn't he just walk on by, like almost any other person? 

He had lit out of Sunnydale right after Graduation on a roadtrip, to see all fifty states. Xander had had a bit of engine trouble right out of the gate, but asking his Uncle Rory to check the old Chevy first had cleared that up. He'd travelled through about two states so far, and had hit a snag on the third. 

He'd found an infestation of the supernatural kind in Bumsville, wherever. It was a fairly forgettable town with a farm store, a small library, a glorified corner store and a fish and chip shop. The church was the largest building in town. 

The church was the reason that Xander had stayed in the town for longer than it took him to refuel outside the farm store. He set the pump going once he put in '$20' on the stand, then went inside. Night had just fallen, and after he'd paid for the petrol he was planning on parking by the roadside and sleeping in the back seat. 

"Hi, twenty dollars of petrol for the blue Chevy outside?," Xander prompted the man behind the counter. 

"Right, nice car," the man said. "Sounds like it runs well, too." 

"I got my uncle to check it before I left Sunnydale," Xander explained. "Didn't sound too healthy before that. I got given it by the church vicar back home when they got a new car." 

"There's somethin' just ain't right about our new vicar," the shopkeeper complained, while he rung up the bill. "Doesn't set foot outside the door, doesn't come visit us, doesn't shop at my friend Bill's corner shop..." 

"Sounds of the weird," Xander agreed. "Here's a twenty for the petrol, and a five for the food." 

The shopkeeper laughed out loud at this. "That ain't food, that's sugar water and more sugar!" 

"Works for me," Xander said amiably. "Where's the church, anyway?" 

"About two blocks that way and to the left," the shopkeeper said. "Big steeple. Can't miss it." 

Xander thanked the man, who reminded him of Principal Flutie somewhat, then put the petrol cap back on the car. He pulled away from the farm store, and decided to check out the church. Xander wasn't in any hurry to get where he was going. 

"Dammit," Xander muttered under his breath. "I bet it's a vampire. Damn conscience." 

* * * 

Xander stepped through the large double doors. The only light inside the holy building was from the numerous lit candles. 

"Hi, is there anyone here?," he said softly. 

"The Church welcomes everyone," a voice said. Xander looked up, to find a man in a grey preacher's suit up behind the altar, a hand on the Bible. His face was narrow, and his fangs showed as he smiled. 

Xander pulled out his stake from the back of his pants. "Vampire." 

"Human," the pretend preacher sneered. 

The Sunnydalian strode up to the front, expecting a reasonably hard fight. He'd taken some training in the soft martial arts, and expected to be able to beat the vampire. Most were too confident in their strength to win against someone trained in the Art. 

The vampire moved, far more swiftly than he'd ever seen one move back in Sunnydale. It started to lower it's mouth to his struggling body as the double doors opened again. Xander elbowed the pretend preacher as it moved him around to it's front as a human shield. He was held too tightly to do anything else. 

"Pathetic. I can't tell you apart from all the trash bags on the sidewalks." 

Xander's eyes shot to the back of the church, where a man in a red coat and hat was grinning. He had yellow John Lennon glasses on. Even to Xander's atrophied fashion sense, the clothes screamed 'vampire'. 

"I wanna go on record as saying this situation is /bad/," Xander muttered. "Where's the Slayer when you need her?" 

"A dog of the humans like you can't hurt me," the preacher vampire said. 

"I serve them for my own reasons," the vamp in the red coat said. 

Xander let the pleas of the vamp holding him wash over him. He had no illusions of surviving this encounter. 

The vampire in the red coat locked eyes on him as he pulled out a large handgun that resembled a Desert Eagle, somewhat. 

'Are you a virgin?' 

He could hear the vamp in his head. Giles had never mentioned that. 

"What the hell kinda question is that?!," Xander screamed at the man. Here he was, stuck between two vampires, and one of them asks that?! 

'Answer me, dammit!' 

"Yes... I AM!," Xander roared back. "Hurry up and kill this Angelus wannabe!" 

The preacher looked at Xander before the vampire in the red coat fired. The bullet ripped through Xander's chest, expanding as it left his flesh and continued through the heart of the vampire that held him. His mouth was starting to fill with blood, from where he had bit the side of his mouth. 

"Unfortunately, the wound is so large you have virtually no chance of surviving," the vampire said. "I had to shoot his heart, so I shot through your liver." 

Liver? Xander thought you needed your liver to live. Heh. A pun. 

The vampire grinned. "How do you feel about eternity? And not as one of those demonic trash bags, either?" 

Xander refused to leave this earth while demons still roamed it. 

* * * 

Once Alucard finished draining the brown haired man, he looked around the church. He felt something wrong, but couldn't put his finger on it. 

Ah! There it was! Magic. It had been awhile since he'd seen that pattern. 

"Integra will be annoyed," Alucard whispered. A grin crossed his face as he considered how his master would react. 

Alucard hated this spell. The only counter he knew of was only good for himself. Hellsing's pet vampire quickly cut his arm, letting blood flow into the brownhaired man's mouth, then escaped the trap that the false preacher had set. 

Hellsing's exterminator left the church. Alexander Harris left the era, sent back in time several hundred years. 

* * * 

Post-fic Comments: 

I know nothing of what smalltown america has -- I'm using my experience of NZ towns. Also, I don't know what slang you americans have for petrol and the like... Sorry. 


	2. Chapter 1

Summary: Xander's roadtrip goes four dimensional, and un-living. 

Crossover: Hellsing 

Disclaimer: If you think I own this, I have a bridge to sell you. 

Feedback: Why not? 

Pre-Fic Comments: 

Thanks for all the comments on the previous part -- there were too many to respond to individually! (I like having this problem.) 

* * * 

Integra lit a small, tightly wrapped cigar while she considered what Alucard had told her. The blonde leader of Hellsing looked out the window, eyes roaming anywhere while she thought. Her blue eyes resembled steel more than sky, and her long blonde hair was a result of concentrating on her work rather than a deliberate attempt at long hair. Walter, her servant, kept her dressed impeccably. 

"So, this mission that we did for the Americans had... consequences," she muttered. 

Alucard grinned at her. 

"You turned someone, and then they were shot back in the past a few centuries or so," she continued softly. "What was the name of this person?" 

"Alexander Harris," Alucard said. "Also known as Finality after his backward journey." 

"Walter, get me our file on Finality," Integra requested. After a minute, the greying man returned. He had a thick manilla folder that he handed to Lord Hellsing. 

"Vampire hunter, demon hunter, criminal hunter," Walter summed up. "He never fails to get what he hunts for, hence the name 'Finality'." 

"There's a fact that isn't in there," Alucard interrupted. "Your father was good friends with him." 

Integra looked up at this. Her father had died when she was a girl, and she respected him highly. "Where is this Finality now?" 

Alucard pointed downward, smirking madly. He phased through the floor, then returned carrying a coffin. The vampire handed Walter a sheet of paper that had been inside the coffin 

"Lovely," she dryly observed. 

"This is a request to send the body to a person in America," Walter said. "Rup--Ripper." 

"He was fun," Alucard said. 

* * * 

Giles woke up to someone knocking on his door. He felt around on his nightstand for his glasses, noting the time. 

Ten in the morning. Perhaps this was a good time to get up. 

He shuffled to the front door in his pajama's to find a courier standing outside. 

"Rupert Giles?," the man asked. 

The Watcher nodded. 

"Got a delivery from Britain for you," the courier said. "Someone called Hellsing sent it. Sign here." 

"Lovely," Giles croaked. 

He took the stylus proffered and signed his name on the LCD screen on the hand computer used by most modern couriers. The courier picked up a large, heavy box, left it on his doorstep, then left to deliver the rest of his list. 

Giles looked at the box. It was about two meters long, by half a meter high, by half a meter wide. There was a plastic envelope stuck on the top, along with the address labelling and a large sticker saying 'Cultural Artifact', and 'Fragile'. 

He dragged it inside, muttering about how Slayers were never around when you needed them, then made himself a cup of tea while he looked at the letter placed where most companies put the receipt on the plastic envelope on the outside of the box. The paper the letter was written on was old, and crackled slightly as he touched it. 

"Hellsing... Hellsing... Ah! Integra," Giles remembered. Integra Wingates Hellsing was the head of the Twelve Conventions, which was loosely tied to the Watchers' Council. He remembered her as being a tough woman of steel in a green suit. 

He sipped his tea and read the letter, which was written in a flowing script 

= = = 

Rupert Giles, 

If you are reading this, then you have just taken possession of my immortal remains. Kindly review your knowledge of the type of vampire including Alucard, Helena and others before opening the container. 

You may recall that Alexander Harris left on a road trip after Graduation. I was in a small town when I heard of a new minister in town who sounded remarkably like a vampire, so I decided to try and slay it. 

= = = 

Giles took his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He suspected he knew what was coming. He sincerely hoped he was wrong. 

= = = 

I found that the vampire was unbelievably fast, moreso than the vampires we had encountered in Sunnydale. It was about to eat me, when a vampire in a red coat entered the church, shooting through me to kill the vampire holding me. 

I was turned, then a trap set by the vampiric minister sent me back in the past several hundred years. Alucard, the vampire who turned me, was only able to prevent himself from being ensnared in the trap. 

A friend of mine has pledged to look after my remains until this date, and then send them on to you. Inside the container will be a bag of medical blood; simply puncture it then let it leak on me. 

Your friend, 

Xander 'Finality' Harris. 

= = = 

Giles' tea cup fell from his slack fingers as he read the last line. Xander Harris was Finality?! 

Finality was legendary in some circles, an immortal hunter of demons. Hearing that Finality was in town was enough to make most demons skip town. Finality was rumoured to have helped Van Helsing take down Dracula (which Giles considered most likely if the letter and the source address was to be believed.) The hunter had not been heard from for a decade, and most demons considered Finality to have finally hunted someone bigger than himself. 

The Watcher got up and went over to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a few shots worth of whisky. He'd planned on teaching Buffy self-reliance through not helping her, but perhaps Xander could prod her along. Xander could /certainly/ teach her more about Slaying. 

He just wished that the innocent boy had not been thrown into the same pit as the rest of them. 

* * * 

Post-Fic Comments: 

Don't worry, Incognito from the anime will /not/ be turning up. 


	3. Chapter 2

Summary: Xander's roadtrip goes four dimensional, and un-living. 

Crossover: Hellsing 

Disclaimer: If you think I own this, I have a bridge to sell you. 

Feedback: Why not? 

Pre-Fic Comments: 

I'm making up a bunch of stuff here. 

* * * 

Buffy and Willow found Giles sitting on his favourite armchair in his living room, looking at a black coffin on his coffee table. He had the bottle of whisky he'd opened by him. 

"What's the what?," Buffy asked. 

Shot glass in hand, Giles gestured at the coffin. "That's... well, you'd better read the letter." 

The two girls looked over it. Once they had finished, Buffy marched over to the coffin and opened it up. 

"Hey!," Willow said. 

"There's a dried up, rotten, corpse in here, Giles, not a baby fresh vampire," Buffy observed. 

"That's the way their curse works," Giles said. "It figures that Xander would be cursed, I mean, who stays normal on a Hellmouth?" 

"Their? He isn't a normal vampire?," Willow asked, always quick to pick up fine details. 

"Well, yes," Giles said. He got up, pouring himself another shot. "The vampires you have seen up until now, including Angel, have been of the Aurelius line of vampires. Xander there was turned by Vlad's line." 

"Vlad the Impaler?," Buffy asked. 

"Yes," Giles confirmed. "Although it had been speculated within the council that Vlad had existed as a vampire long before he rose to power." 

"So," Buffy said. "You raise 'em, I stake 'em?" 

Giles turned sharply at this. Some of his whisky slopped onto his hand at the movement. "You will do no such thing. The Vlad vampires have their souls, and Council policy is to leave them alone until they harm the innocent." 

"So we tie him up, then do the revive thing," Willow said. "Giles, have you got any ropes or anything?" 

It turned out Giles had some cast iron restraints. After some jokes by the two girls, they clamped the leg irons and the wrist irons on the dessicated corpse. Giles picked up the bag of medical blood that had been inside the coffin. 

"Uh, should I?," he asked. 

"Sure," Willow said. "Because then Buffy would be able to stop him if something goes wrong, because, well, slayer!" 

"Right," Giles said. He punctured the bag with a pair of scissors. "Well, here goes." 

Giles slowly began pouring the human blood into the corpse's mouth. The effect was almost immediate. The flesh reverted to the appearance of flesh, the eyes reinflated, and all the other details. The hair lightened to white, greying as more blood was poured until it was black. 

Except for the hair colour, the person was quite recognisable. 

"Xander!," Willow yelled, grabbing the figure and hugging the crap out of him. 

"Uh, Hi, Willow," Xander said hesitantly. "Good to see you all... it's been awhile for me." 

"It's been three months," Buffy said. 

"Couldn't you phone us?," Willow asked. 

"You did read the letter, right?," Xander asked. "I've had to live through several hundred years to get back to you guys." 

Giles interrupted. "Xander... is this signature correct? Are you Finality?" 

The Watcher took his glasses off, cleaning them. 

"Yeah," Xander said. 

"Uh, for those of us who haven't lived through the last several hundred years," the Slayer said, "what's the deal with this Finality?" 

"I kill demons," Xander shrugged. "I also didn't want anyone gunning after my mortal self in the future." 

"Finality is a legendary hunter," Giles said. "He is responsible for the final deaths of legions of vampires, and scores of demons. If, uh, a demon hears that Finality is present, that demon immediately skips town, taking all it's relatives with it." 

"Speaking of which, that's a real pain," Xander complained. "I hate running after them." 

Buffy looked at Xander, mouth wide open and speechless. 

"If you keep with that, flies are gonna buzz in," Xander said. 

Buffy closed her mouth. 

"Xander, I feel that it would be good for Buffy if she could learn something of Slaying under you," Giles said. 

"Yeah, what's with this whole ignore the Slayage thing you have going on right now?," Willow asked. 

"I, ah, was attempting to teach Buffy something of self reliance," Giles admitted. 

"Self reliance sucks," Xander muttered. "Does Angel still hang around here?" 

"Ah, no," Giles said. "He left for Los Angeles, to remove the temptation of..." 

"Me," Buffy finished. 

"Schmuck of a vampire," Xander muttered. 

"Hey!," Buffy said. "Angel's helped us a lot." 

"I've helped us a lot," Xander complained. "Without me, you'd have about a hundred times more demons to deal with. Besides, he can't summon a familiar, he can't regenerate his legs... I could go on." 

"Familiar?," Willow asked. "You know magic?" 

"A bit," Xander admitted. "I had some fun with Drac for awhile." 

* * * 

Post-fic Comments: 

Short 'n' sweet. 


	4. Chapter 3

Summary: Xander's roadtrip goes four dimensional, and un-living. 

Crossover: Hellsing, Blood Rayne 

Disclaimer: If you think I own this, I have a bridge to sell you. 

Feedback: Why not? It ensures that I will write more. 

Pre-Fic Comments: 

I dunno how well this plot idea will work. 

* * * 

It was then that the telephone chose to ring. Giles answered it. 

"Good evening, Rupert Giles speaking." 

"Integra! How good to hear from you." 

"Oh, well Father doesn't speak to me anymore after... well." 

"I thought you did know. Well, Walter and Alucard can inform you." 

"Ah, I see. Just one moment." 

Giles cupped his hand over the handpiece's microphone, then gestured Xander over to the telephone. On the other end, Integra handed the telephone over to her servant. 

"Hi?" 

"Nothing's happened so far -- you caught me just rising." 

"I thought we cleaned them out." 

"Please tell me you're joking. I hate dealing with them." 

"Oh. Well, I'll go down there and check it out for you." 

"There too? I hope you're gonna fix me up with more supplies after this." 

"Good to hear from you again. Are you still going by Alucard?" 

Xander took the phone away from his ear as a loud, angry outburst came over the phone. "Yeesh, sorry. One moron and your name's dirt forever..." 

"Well. See ya." 

Xander hung up the telephone. Giles looked at him expectantly. 

"Well? What was that about?" 

"Do you know anything about the GGG, or Gegengeist Gruppe?," Xander asked. 

"The... Anti-Ghost Army?," Giles translated. "Ah, no. German organisation?" 

The old time travelling vampire nodded. "They've found the Letzt Battalion, and are organising an offensive of some kind. Both are supernatural experiments founded by Hitler." 

"Nazi's?," Willow asked. "Um, vampire Nazis?" 

Xander nodded. 

"Well, I'm stuck on the Hellmouth for now, so I can't help you," Buffy said. 

"I would have thought you'd have... eradicated them during the first half of this century," Giles said. 

"I thought I did," Xander complained. "They're like cockroaches." 

"A few of my contacts would be willing to sell you ammunition," Giles said. "The Council has developed some high explosive bullets." 

Xander shook his head. "No, I'll get some holy rounds from Hellsing. I can't let Integra think she can get me to do this for free, and I'll never get her to pay me money." 

"Pay?," Buffy asked, eyes narrowing. "There's a thought -- Giles, why doesn't the Council pay me anything?" 

"Because they're a pack of British tightarses," Giles said as he cleaned his glasses. 

"Amen," Xander muttered. In a louder voice, he continued. "Why do you think Hellsing called me, and not the Council? The Council of Watchers knows they'll have to pay me in bullets or bullion." 

"Where is this combine located?," Giles asked. 

"South America, as all good cliches are," Xander said. "At least I'll be able to get a tan while I'm there." 

He and Willow had a good laugh at this. 

"South America? Giles, are you sure that I can't leave the Hellmouth?," Buffy asked. 

* * * 

Xander hated planes. 

It wasn't the altitude. He had no problems with airsickness. 

It wasn't the sunlight -- at a certain age, he'd found that his kind of vampire could tolerate the sun. After so long in darkness, he did hate it, though. 

It was the noise. The constant, incessant, droning noise. 

Oh, on these modern planes they had /some/ sound insulation. But the faint hum never went away, as annoying as a faulty fluorescent light. 

The inflight movie wasn't even any good. It was some old horror movie, and had a screaming, fainting heroine who was being stalked by a mysterious vampire. 

"Stupid moron," Xander complained. "Stop messing around! Jeez, he's as bad as Spike and Angelus." 

The person next to him looked up at this. She had carrot-orange hair, was dressed in jeans and a tshirt, and had one blue eye and one red. 

"Spike?," she asked. "You've met Mr William the Bloody?" 

"The Bloody Awful Poet, you mean?," Xander asked, surprised. "I'm sorry, who are you?" 

"Rayne, B Rayne," the girl said, omitting most of her first name. 

"Xander Harris," Xander said. "From time to time, I've been known as Finality." 

The girl shrunk back at this. "Don't hurt me! Or I'll hurt you back twice as hard!" 

Xander couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, so you're Blood Rayne! I've been hoping to meet you -- it's good to hear of another hunter!" 

"Oh, so you're not after me? That makes a nice change," Rayne said dryly. "Are you after the GGG remnant as well?" 

"Yeah," Xander said. "Apparently they've formed an alliance with the Letzt Battalion, similar to the GGG but far more militant." 

"What are you planning?" 

"So far? Sneaking in and taking out their CO's, then working my way from the top down." 

"Sounds good. Want some help?" 

* * * 

Buffy groaned. "We get Xander back, then he leaves almost immediately! Do I have some kind of vamp-only BO?" 

"No!," Willow reassured her. "Uh, not that I'm a vampire, so I wouldn't know a hundred percent." 

A hand burst through the clods of dirt on top of the fresh grave. 

"Good! I'm not vamp repellant after all!" 

* * * 

Post-fic comments: 

I'm not sure why I added BR. Just felt like it mid-flight. 

Got some more music recently. The band 'Norther' sounds pretty good. 


	5. Chapter 4

Summary: Xander's roadtrip goes four dimensional, and un-living. 

Crossover: Hellsing, Blood Rayne 

Disclaimer: If you think I own this, I have a bridge to sell you. 

Feedback: Why not? It ensures that I will write more. 

Pre-Fic Comments: 

The Hellsing parts /will/ be non-canon, since I only have up to volume four or five of the manga. 

* * * 

"How about you go in and take care of the GGG officers," Xander began, "and I take care of the Letzt Battalion officers?" 

Rayne looked up from sharpening one of her blades. "Sure. What weapons are you planning on using?" 

Xander pulled out a .454 handgun, about thirty centimeters long. "The bullets are made from Hellsing's stock." 

"Lancaster?," the slim half-vampiress asked. She was dressed in her silk and leather workclothes that hid the blood so well. 

"Yeah," Xander affirmed. The .454 ammunition was made by Hellsing's gunsmith, and the bullets were made of one of Lancaster Cathedral's melted down crosses. 

"Please tell me you're going to get changed before you go in," Rayne moaned. "You can /not/ be thinking of going against Nazi vampires in a Hawaiian shirt and jeans." 

"What?," Xander asked. "I've been waiting hundreds of years to get these shirts!" 

"Your fashion sense must have died with you," Rayne muttered. 

"Hey!" 

"Hawaiian shirts went out in the eighties," Rayne complained. 

"No one's perfect," Xander shrugged. "You want to catch a movie after this, then socially humiliate me as we break up after a torrid affair?" 

The red headed half-vampiress laughed out loud at this. "Sure. We'll see how we go about the break up, depending on you." 

* * * 

Xander poked his head through a ceiling. Like his Sire, he had the ability to dematerialise. He had enjoyed using it to spy on girls, until they saw his face sticking out of a wall and hit him later, when he wasn't dematerialised. At the moment, he was looking at an immense underground zeppelin hangar in South America. 

"Ooooooh boy," he muttered. "We're gonna need a bigger boat." 

He was looking at a thousand vampires, all clad in varying uniforms, all with the swastika around their arms. They were saluting three figures walking down from a zeppelin. 

He took a closer look at the three figures. The one on the left was bodyguard material, and had a trenchcoat and hat on. A long gun was attached to his belt. The one on the right could only be a doctor of some sort, with a bloodstained lab coat on. The doctor had glasses with numerous movable lenses on, and a frown at all times. 

The middle figure was short and fat, with glasses and a tan suit on. He was the obvious leader, waving regally to the troops as he walked down from the zeppelin, the other two following him. 

A kid with... wolves ears? ran up to the fat man. Xander listened intently. The werewolf bragged about how the werewolves would have done a better job than... Tubalcain? Xander had never heard of Tubalcain. 

Seven figures appeared out of the murky gloom at the south entrance to the hanger, three in wheelchairs, all old. The short, fat man with glasses clicked his heels together then saluted them in the Nazi fashion. 

"Zeik Heil! Special duty, Generalissimo's Secret #666 complete, I have returned!" 

Xander laughed to himself as the lead guy started argueing with the short man, eventually striking him and kicking him to the ground. Hopefully they'd all start fighting. Why couldn't more enemies infight like this? 

He groaned as the man in the fancy uniform stopped, as another group shot his baton. This new group looked like trouble. 

Xander ignored them, until the short, fat major announced his intentions. 

"My purpose? Hehe, a purpose, eh, Colonel? To be able to taste the joy of war forever! For the next war, and the war after that." 

"You're mad," Xander shouted, unable to stop himself. More than a thousand Nazi's heads shot up. 

"Ah, can you forget I was here?," Xander asked weakly. "There's a twinkie in it for... ah, crap." 

* * * 

Post-fic comments: 

Sorry if this is short. Blame the fanboy muse. 


End file.
